


Touch

by StarTravel



Series: Stages [6]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Emotional Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings Realization, Introspection, Literary References & Allusions, POV Julian Bashir, Post-Episode: s03e01-e02 The Search, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-04 23:43:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18354170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/pseuds/StarTravel
Summary: Julian watched Garak die and felt something fundamental shift. He spends the night trying to reassure himself that Garak is very much alive.





	Touch

Julian watched Garak die. He  _ felt  _ Garak die, that inviting, comfortable body growing hard and rigid in his arms, those brilliant eyes grow dull and empty. He can’t get the image out of his mind even after he’s safely back on Deep Space 9 and been assured of Garak’s safety numerous times. 

 No, it’s not enough to hear it or even to see it. He needs to  _ feel,  _ to  _ taste.  _ And with that in mind Julian hurried to his quarter after his shift, stripping his uniform off piece by piece. Garak’s never liked it and Julian wants to feel skin against his own far more quickly than his usual layers allow. Instead he slides on a thin blue T-shirt with a low collar and slim black pants, every angle of his frame on display. 

 Then he practically runs down the halls and through the promenade until he’s in front of Garak’s quarters, fibers nervously hovering over the bell. It’s late, Garak could be sleeping or have other company there or -

 It doesn’t matter. Julian needs to touch him. He presses the doorbell, and there is Garak, alone and with no sleep in his eyes. 

  Julian smiles shakily and holds up the bottle of kanar he’s been keeping in his room for a special occasion. He meant for it to be the first time he fucked Garak in his Bond holosuite, but somehow tonight feels more important. Julian stares at Garak for a few seconds and just drinks him in: the sheen of the hallway lights on his skin, the way his eye ridge goes up, and the teasing curiosity of his gaze that speaks to a brilliance Julian only wishes the doctor on Adigeon Prime could have given him. 

 Garak throws an arm out casually, smile growing amused as he gives Julian a quick once over. Julian flushes a bit, but he can’t help the rush of pride he feels when he catches the hint of approval. He knew he chose a good outfit. “You must be surprised to see me at this hour.”

 “It is normally me breaking into your quarters in the middle of the night and not the other way around, but I can’t say that I mind the outcome doctor.” Garak grins just a little too sharply, eyes glittering in the dim light of his quarters. Julian wonders if Garak already knows why he’s here, if he already predicted the heaviness in his gaze or the way his shoulders shake. 

 Julian wonders if Garak would feel the same way if it was the other way around and then he decides it doesn’t matter. What matters is they’re both here now. 

 “Garak, I -“ Julian cuts himself off in favor of grasping Garak’s shoulders, pressing his mouth roughly against Garak’s as he walks them backwards into his quarters. Julian’s desperate for contact, pulling at fabric with a frantically, silky material twisting underneath his fingertips. It’s not enough. He needs to feel skin, to catalogue each scale and the way it moves and engorges beneath his hands. 

 Julian needs to hear him mock Odysseus and Sherlock Holmes and all of Julian’s other heroes mercilessly until his words are lost in a sharp gasp or a guttural sound, pleasure overcoming his need to talk. He needs to feel Garak’s hands pulling at his hair and thrusting in his mouth or pressing their bodies together up against a wall or -

 He needs to feel that Garak is alive. 

 “Doctor?” Garak’s voice manages to be roughened with lust and deceptively cool at the same time, as though it’s not his hands gripping Julian’s hips so tightly he’s sure he’ll have delicious bruises come the morning. Julian glances up at him with blown eyes and then kisses him again, more needy than tough this time as his hands find his way to Garak’s waist and the softness there, reassuringly malleable and  _ real _ . 

 You were there, in the simulation the changelings did.” Julian pants as he pulls back long enough to look Garak in the eyes, not quite able to keep the emotion out of his gaze, the shake from his voice. Julian loves him and he lost him and he refuses to do it again. 

 Then Julian’s mouth is back on the scales along Garak’s neck, sucking on ridges and taking in the salty, slightly metallic taste that’s quickly become his favorite. Garak makes a noise that’s halfway between a gasp and a scoff, one cool hand sliding under Julian’s shirt and hp his chest. “Yes, stories about your little adventures have spread across the ship.”

 “You died in my arms, Garak.” Julian whispers against Garak’s neck, dropping his head to the space where Garak’s head connected with his shoulders, trying to chase thoughts of Garak’s breath failing away with the sounds of him panting here. 

 “And now you want a repeat performance?” Garak asks wryly as his hand slides up Julian’s abs at an almost unbearably slow pace. Garak takes his left nipple between his thumb and index finger and rubs it back forth, nail scratching across the edge and making Julian gasp and laugh in the same breath. 

 “I never should have taught you that euphemism.” Julian groans as Garak twists his left nipple again before letting go entirely. Julian glowers at him without any heat, leaning up to catch Garak’s bottom lip between his teeth. He sucks on it for a few seconds before letting go, hands undoing the first few latches of Garak’s trousers. The skin on his thighs is already warm, scales engorged and ready for him to taste. 

 “It does show how violent humans can be when it comes to sex.” Garak murmurs against the shell of his ear, husky and full of promises that send a shiver down Julian’s spine. 

 Julian unbuttons a bit more of Garak’s shirt, nipping one of the scales along Garak’s collar bone. Garak moans, voice high and tight as he throws his head back. Julian feels Garak everting against his thigh, a few inches coming out to press against him. Julian barely gets to feel smug before Garak grabs his right nipple and gives it a sharp tug. Julian lets out a high-pitched gasp, hips jerking forward erratically. 

 “Shut up.”

 “Give me a better incentive to.” Garak says it like a challenge, gaze hooded as he suddenly grips Julian by the shoulders. He pushes down on them purposefully and Julian drops to his knees with an easy grace, hands sliding behind his back. He crosses them at the wrist as he leans forward, looking up at Garak with a question in his gaze. 

 Garak smiles brightly at him, proud in a way that manages to be genuine and mocking at the same time. Julian rolls his eyes and leans forward, raking the first few inches of Garak into his mouth. He starts moving his lips around them, reciting Ginsberg around the slit at the head until Garak moans in the same rhythm. Julian slides down a few more inches, twisting his tongue around each familiar with ridge with a sense of fondness. 

 He switches to A’rulx, one of Garak’s favorite poets when he’s halfway down, tongue moving more slowly as he tries to move it clumsily around unfamiliar words. He wonders if Garak’s appreciative moans mean he can tell Julian’s speaking Kardassi on his skin. 

 Julian doesn’t get a chance to find out, Farak suddenly grabbing his hair and pushing in so that his entire length is inside Julian’s mouth, choking him a little as Garak’s grip tightens on his curls. Julian gasps around him, his own hips rocking back and forth in desperate search for release. 

 Then Garak lets go and taps his shoulders instead, gaze not leaving room for questions. Julian slides his mouth down Garak at the same time he brings his hands up to scratch along the edges of his sheath, nails brushing along the nerve endings there with a practiced ease. 

 Julian recites Cardassian elegies along Garak’s head and writes Petrarchan sonnets on his sheath, he’s not the least bit surprised when it’s that combination that makes Garak toss his head back, hips jerking erratically in Julian’s mouth as he swallows to the last drop. 

 “I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?” Julian asks softly as he licks his lips slowly, getting that last taste of Garak before he sits back on his heels. He still aches for some kind of release, any kind really, but he can take care of that himself in the quiet of his own quarters. 

 Tonight wasn’t about pleasure, it was about reminding himself that Garak is here and safe and even if he’s not Julian’s the way Julian is his - can never be - he’s alive and that’s  _ enough.  _ To want anything more than that would be arrogant in all the ways he’s always trying to prove he’s not. 

 Garak raises an eyebrow and suddenly kneels down next to him, one hand pressing against his the silky material of his pajama bottoms, the other lingering against his waistband. His voice is soft and enticing when he speaks, a siren casting his enchantment over every sailor who gets to close. “Or you could stay the night.” 

 Julian knows he should be smart and say no, should leave before he lets himself want things he shouldn’t want. Garak can’t fall in love with what isn’t there and Julian will never have a  _ there  _ to begin with. 

 He says yes anyway, voice barely more than a whisper as Garak presses their mouths back together. 

**Author's Note:**

> Questions and comments are loved! :)


End file.
